Affirmation (ecliptic)
by The Readers Muse
Summary: They didn't just lay Beth to rest outside the city limits, they took her back to the beginning. Not her beginning, but theirs. Winding their way up that familiar dirt road to the Quarry camp.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Set directly after the end of "Coda" – and dwelling on what might have happened in the aftermath as Daryl and Carol reunite and the group takes stock of their losses. Dedicated to our lovely Sanjamac, hope you enjoy, kitten!

 **Warnings:** ***** Contains: adult language, angst, hurt/comfort, healing touches, light intimacy, deals with aspects of grieving/loss.

 **Affirmation (ecliptic)**

They didn't just lay Beth to rest outside the city limits, they took her back to the beginning. Not her beginning, but _theirs_. Winding their way up that familiar dirt road to the Quarry camp. It was an unexpected distraction. One she wasn't entirely sure she was grateful for as the soles of her boots crunched across a fine layer of dusty, weed-choked quartz.

"We camp here for the night," Rick told them, meeting eyes only where he had to as the wrenching hiccups of Maggie's sobs carried from line of graves Jim had dug – now curved and overgrown – higher up on the hill. "We leave at first light. Get some sleep."

She ended up doing a grudging circuit, body aching. Refamilarizing herself with the terrain and trying not to let too many memories filter through in the process. She thumbed the hair-tie around her wrist as she took in the changes. Puzzling over what had stayed the same and what hadn't. Forgetting the good intentions she'd set out with as her eyes threatened to water.

She'd forgotten how much history tied them here.

How important this place had been.

It hadn't just been the beginning of the end.

But a beginning of a different sort.

And just like the life that had come before it, it had been both good and bad in turns.

There'd been people here since they'd left. People and walkers if the bullet-ridden corpses piled on the cliff edge were any indication. The milk crates Sophia and Carl had used to do their school work on had been rearranged, weighing down the spokes of a camo-printed tent still zipped up from the inside. The main fire pit was host to months old ashes – the packages of half-burned trash just visible from between the sable coals.

But perhaps the most telling was that the line of graves had grown in their absence. The upper clearing now had a separate grouping of unfamiliar mounds that had been shunted off to the side. Unmarked save for a few wisps of faded cloth knotted to twin planks of white-washed wood, half buried at the head.

 _Untold stories._ She mused, refusing to let the thought rule her as a small voice urged her to look closer. To follow the bread-crumb clues and know the story that had once mapped out the end of a life _. Two lives._ Her lips firmed in a steady line. _No, she didn't have to care. She wasn't obligated to. She couldn't let herself-_

She lost track of Daryl in the process, but didn't think much of it. Content to let him melt into the backdrop to lick his wounds in private before seeking him out. Instead, she took Judith from Carl's shaky hands and gave her a splash bath in the Quarry lake. Knowing he needed the time. Knowing he needed to be away. Anywhere but within earshot of the stunted silence and distant cries.

She took stock of their supplies. Sending Abraham, Tara, Sasha and Tyreese off to scout the perimeter. Letting Rick and Carl have a moment to breathe as she put the others to work making camp and doing a quick inventory of where they sat concerning weapons and ammo. They were going to have to resupply somewhere, the sooner the better. What she'd managed to take from Terminus wasn't going to last. Especially if Rick was set on taking Noah back to Virginia.

No one said anything when Glenn and Maggie set up their own fire on the opposite end of the clearing. Holding each other as Maggie gave it all up. Grieving not just for the sister she'd lost, but for her father – _her family_ – as the day came to a close and found her the last one standing. There wasn't much you could say. Nothing that didn't sound cheap, anyway.

She left the others after dinner had been doled out, taking Daryl's share with a tight lipped smile. Feeling the weight of more than a few silent eyes as she paused in the backdrop to collect their bedrolls before heading towards the tree-line and out of sight.

What they knew, or thought they knew, was their own business.

And most of them knew enough by now to keep it that way.

Making her way through the green was like a lesson in repressed memory. Remembering Dale's steady presence atop the RV. Jim's silent tinkering. Amy's sarcastic remarks and determined cheer. She remember washing clothes with Andrea and Jacqui, joking and laughing. She remembered T-dog playing tag with Morales' children, making them laugh while the sear of a city burning smudged across the horizon in sickly whorls of acidic-grey.

He jerked to his feet when she stepped out of the trees. Starting like a guilty child, shoulders squared – defensive - aggressive. Face a mess of dirt and hard lines as his eyes glittered. Staring her down for a long, impressive moment before turning away, showing her his back like he couldn't bear to look at her.

"Don't shut me out," she whispered shakily, staring at the hard line of his back as a shudder passed through both of them. Feeling the backwash of more than a few old ghosts as she watched his head tip down – bowing and dark with the night's shadows. "I don't know if I could survive that. Not now. _Not today_."

She wasn't entirely sure what she was asking for when she extended her hand. But he came regardless. Letting himself be drawn in – breath by breath – until she had him caught. Existing solely in the axis of her arms – loose gripped but no less firm – as he baulked in fractions. Trying to shy away from her, in that way he did. Beaten and broken, but wanting it no matter how loudly that sly little voice screamed inside.

She used to be on a first name basis with that little voice.

Still was most days, if she was being honest with herself.

"Let me," she murmured, shushing the silent negative in the back of his eyes before it had a chance to form. "Just let me, please?"

She let him control the fall. Wrapping her arms around him slowly, beginning with a steady pressure on his shoulders as he quivered, breathing heavy in her ear like a winded horse. Running them down the curve of his back as she hushed him, soothing and kind, rubbing in odd-concentric circles that had no purpose save for that magic thing that sometimes happens in the heat of the moment. And ends up being _exactly_ what the other person needs.

They slid down the bark of the nearest tree – tangled up and close. Him because his knees were shaking and her because everything in her still ached. Because she was tired. Because she wanted this. Wherever it went. Wherever it didn't. It didn't matter where it led. It wasn't like that. She just wanted what was here – _now_ – and she wanted it without all the shit that usually ended up getting in the way.

 _She wanted it raw._

 _She wanted it right._

 _And she wanted it from him._

It took ages, but eventually his arms tightened around her. Growing fierce on the side of painful in just a matter of seconds. Like now that he'd made that final step there was nothing to stop him from getting greedy. But instead of telling him to stop, she held him back just as tightly. Content to let him tell her - _show her_ \- what he needed as their dinners went cold beside them.

There were no expectations. No sidelong thoughts about turning the moment into something it wasn't. It simply was what it was. It was about affirmation. _Comfort._ It was about taking stock after the world had chewed you up and spat you out for the hundredth time. It was about picking up the pieces after you'd sworn to yourself that you wouldn't break.

They were a mess. Unwashed and dirty. But that didn't stop Daryl from making things evolve in real time. Making a series of baser pitching sounds under his breath as he started to nudge her down. Shrugging out of his vest and pillowing it under her head as he gentled her flat across the ground. Watching through the corner of her eyes as the forest dark stretched and she found herself splayed out with last season's leaves.

She caught the gleam of his eyes, highlighting the reflecting moonlight – dark and almost feral with it - as he sank down slowly, _enveloping her._ Pressing her down until there wasn't a square inch of her that wasn't covered, wasn't _protected_.

His breath rushed out of him like a sucker punch when their hips settled. Gravel-rough and wounded as he buried his face in the sweat-stiff spikes of her hair. So still she thought the moment might have broken him as the wet of silent tears trickled down her neck.

"I'm here," she whispered, voice muffled under a living layer of clothes and skin. Tipping her chin to fit into the crook where shoulder met neck, wrapping her arm around his middle with vapid pride. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Can't promise that," he grunted, without looking up, staying stuck as their breaths synced and she wondered what their lives might have been like if they'd met before she'd married Ed. "None of us can. You're a liar if you do."

"I can. You know that," she replied looking up at the night sky – star-studded and flooded with moonlight. Before the corner of her mouth twitched and she let the rest go. Remembering why it was okay to smile as the memory of the last time she'd said it flooded over her like a balm. Calming and full as something in the pit of her stomach warmed with the strength of it.

"Nine lives, remember?"

* * *

 **A/N #1: ** Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – This story is now complete.

 **Reference:**

 _*_ _ **Ecliptic**_ _–_ the imaginary line along which the sun appears to travel in the course of the year; all zodiac constellations lie along the ecliptic.


End file.
